


Slow Burn

by Stiney



Category: A-Team (2010), A-Team - All Media Types
Genre: Aerialist, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Circus, Angst, Backstory, Child Abuse, Circus, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Familial Abuse, Families of Choice, Family, Finding Family, Fire breathing, Fire eating, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gay Male Character, Headcanon, Home, Homecoming, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Leaving Home, M/M, Male Bonding, Male Friendship, Male Homosexuality, Male Protagonist, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, POV Male Character, Past Abuse, Prequel, References to Homophobia, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Content, Slash, Trapeze, Travel, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 13:05:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/622435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stiney/pseuds/Stiney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It took years of running before Murdock was finally able to find his way home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slow Burn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [purrslink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/purrslink/gifts).



> _**For the LJ[A-Team Secret Santa](http://a-tsecretsanta.livejournal.com/) Fic Exchange.**_

_People don’t just join the circus, they run away with it, usually leaving something significant behind._

#####

_**1995 – Tyler, Texas** _

_An accident._

_He’d tried to explain but the words had just kept sliding and slithering away in the confusion. Not that the police were interested in his stuttering, stunted excuse when faced with two naked men, one of who had blood pouring out of his nose._

Shaking his head hard he tried to get things to rattle back into place. When it didn’t work he brushed bangs that woulda made his Gramma weep out of his eyes so he could stare at the dingy cell wall.

He should have seen it coming but sometimes he wanted to at least pretend he was a normal 22 year old. Where the only thing he should have been worried about was whether or not he’d be getting laid after heading home from the bar.

That was so much easier than the fact he’d been awake for three days and if he moved too fast people and things would go all whirly.

Instead of paying attention to pinwheel people, he’d focused on Nick.

Nick with the million dollar smile and Boston accent that was damn near exotic to his Texan ears. The accent that’d sent shivers down his spine and scattered all thoughts but one when the blond had leaned close and whispered, “Take me home.”

It’d been worth it with Nick panting and grinding against him and just as much, if not more so afterward when he’d finally fallen into a sated slumber. Only sleep hadn’t lasted long before he was pulled to consciousness by the other man’s shocked and pained shouts.

_“Murdock!”_

The sheer volume of the bellow snapped him out of his head and back to the even more pressing problem of how to get out of spending another night locked up. He watched as the big-bellied deputy started around the corner, talking to someone like they were at a Sunday picnic instead of the Smith County Jail.

“Fuck.” He muttered when a distinctive laugh rang out and the deep, false sound of it made his stomach drop. _Granddad._ It figured that over 200 miles and four hours away he was still so easily within the old man’s reach.

He feigned disinterest even as his heart slammed against his ribcage when his Granddad stepped to the bars with the long suffering sigh reserved for his only grandchild.

“Boy, didn’t you hear your name? Get up off that bench. You better be glad that young man decided to drop the charges.”

 _‘So glad.’_ He thought. And as Milton Brown sneered down at him he knew full well it had more to do with money exchanging hands than any sort of understanding.

“You need to quit all this mess.” Milton ordered.

Tired and still a bit wobbly he stared at the old man defiantly. “What? The cock or the crazy?”

“H.M. Murdock, don’t you dare…”

He smiled; a wide and off-kilter thing as his Granddad went purple with barely checked rage. Before H.M. could make it worse by telling him he looked good in the shade, his Granddad spoke, low and dangerous.

“We’re gonna do this one of two ways. You either come home with me or you’re going back to Meridian.”

Just the name knocked the breath of out him and the smile off his face.

H.M. tried not to shake as sense memory kicked in, the sour smell of the hospital’s halls immediately thick in his nose. “No. No. I’ll come home.”

His Granddad nodded as he called to the deputy. “Hey Earl, come let my boy outta here, wouldya?”

#####

By the time they’d reached the sprawling Richmond ranch house he’d grown up in, H.M. knew he wasn’t going to stay. The hours of the drive with his Granddad telling him exactly what he was going to do from here on out had cemented that decision with absolute finality.

That night he’d sat in his childhood bedroom, waiting for the last of the lights to go out before he grabbed the bag from under the bed.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered as he passed the bureau with the pictures of his Gramma and Mama placed so reverently on top.

H.M. didn’t know where he was going as he quietly headed out into the crisp, fall, Texas night. But knowing that wherever he ended up would ultimately be _his_ choice, made it easier.

#####

_**2002 – Amarillo, Texas** _

_“H.M., wake up.”_

He tried holding onto the remnants of the first good sleep he’d had in ages but _nope_ , the voice was gonna keep on trying to snatch it away.

“Wake up.” The voice appeared to have called in reinforcements as a shove followed.

“Cinco minutos más y me levantaré para la escuela.” His plea turned into a groan when cool air hit bare skin as the covers were hijacked and a phone was thrust at him.

“This is not my house! Michael, don’t you dare give me your phone!” The protest was futile as his traitorous hand gripped the offending object as the other man rolled over.

_“H.M. Murdock?”_

“Depends.” Holding the receiver to his ear he reached out with his unoccupied hand to tug some of the blanket back from his bedmate’s body. “Does he owe you money?”

_“Mr. Murdock, my name’s Crawford Chase. My law firm Dawson, Dixon and Chase is here in Richmond. We’ve been trying to track you down. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you but your grandfather passed away three months ago. I’m calling because we need you to come in so the estate can be properly settled.”_

At the words, the corners of the room went blurry and he pressed fingers hard against his eyes hoping to sharpen things back up.

“No, you definitely have the wrong guy.” The words sounded foreign and distant, even as he felt himself swallow around them.

The man on the line sighed. _“Mr. Murdock, I understand…”_

“You don’t understand anything.” He snapped, voice edging towards panic. “Give it all to Aunt Bernice. I don’t want any of it.” Hanging up he took a shaky breath before opening his eyes to see Michael sitting and staring at him warily.

 _‘Oh, I knew the_ **_Why did I let this crazy man in my bed?_ ** _look would make an appearance sooner or later.’_

“What’s going on?” Michael asked.

“Nothing. It's fine.” Murdock turned away, needing to focus on something, anything that wasn’t the man beside him. His gaze frantically bounced around the room till it fell on the bright red paper sticking out of the back pocket of the shorts lying on the floor.

“What is it?” Michael’s hand on his arm sent him jumping to his feet.

“I need to go.” He yanked on the cargos and a t-shirt as he shoved clothes in his duffel, all the while refusing to even glance at the bed.

“Go? What do you mean go?” Michael questioned.

“Go. Run along. Split. Vamoose.” He made a shooing motion as he grabbed the last of his gear from the corner and finally looked up.

“You’re just gonna take off?” Michael sat unmoving, face etched with bewilderment.

“That’s kinda what it means.” Murdock saw the incomprehension in dark eyes turn to anger as he started to leave the room.

“Are you kidding me? Six months you’ve been laying around my house…”

Slinging the bags over his shoulder, Murdock hurried out the front door and away from Michael’s ranting that could still be vaguely heard as he took the porch steps two at a time.

He jogged to the bus stop around the corner, taking the flyer out of his pocket as he dropped his stuff to the ground.

Always on the lookout for new jobs, _escapes_ , he’d immediately pulled the bright circus announcement off the laundry mat’s bulletin board when he saw it last week. Seven years of traveling, _running_ , all over the state of Texas and the possibility of going further had called to him so strongly, even when he knew he wouldn’t actually go.

_“Your grandfather passed away…”_

Except now he would.

Murdock laughed sharply and the woman standing next to him gave him the side eye.

Miles, years and now death between them and the old man still managed to be the main motivating factor in his life.

He could do this. Leaving the state was the only way to fully break free and The Burress Brothers’ Circus was his one chance.

#####

Taking a deep breath, Murdock transferred the weight of his hastily packed and near bursting bags as he stood on the steps of the trailer he’d been pointed toward when he asked about jobs. He took one last look at the flyer then knocked.

The door flung open with such force that Murdock had to take a step back to avoid being hit.

“What?” The dark haired man with piercing blue eyes growled.

“Looking for Mr. Burress.” Murdock held out the paper, now crumpled and sweat stained from how tightly he’d clutched it in his fist. “Said y’all are looking for performers.”

“Mr. Burress?” With a nasty laugh the man turned for a moment back into the trailer. “This asshole’s looking for Mr. Burress.” He eyed Murdock’s chaotic appearance. “I’m the manager of this circus. You want a job, you come through me.”

“Ok then Mr. …” Murdock began.

“Pike.” The man stared at him with unveiled annoyance.

“Well then Mr. Pike. Yes, I want a job with this here fine circus of yours.” Murdock continued, voice intentionally falling into a heavy drawl.

“What do you do?” The manager asked with a sneer.

Murdock smiled, letting a little more crazy than usual peek through. The end result exactly as planned when it wiped the smugness off Pike’s face.

#####

The midday Texas sun beat down hot and bright as Murdock stood in the middle of the circus’ back yard. He pulled off his cap, shirt following as someone let out a whistle that he’d curtsied to before placing his hat on backwards.

A small crowd grew as he bent down to pull torches and fuel out of his duffel. Laying them on the ground in an almost ordered sense of disarray.

“Get on with it. Do I look like I have all day?” Pike grumbled from the sidelines.

Holding an unlit torch in his hand, Murdock gave a wordless bow in the manager’s direction. A sudden flick of his wrist and a downward breath had fire reflecting off the ground before he’d even come up from the gesture.

From there Murdock ran smoothly through his routine, from small fireballs to fire straight up into the air with the Volcano. But Pike remained indifferent even as each new trick drew a response from the crowd.

“I’m gonna need a volunteer for this one.” Murdock said, inspecting the people around him as he wiped the excess fuel from his mouth with a water dampened cloth. He grinned as a tall, good-looking man jogged up, pulling a t-shirt over his head as he whispered to the girl next to him.

“You! Faceman! Come gimme a hand.” Murdock pointed and Gorgeous looked to either side of himself. _‘Ah, the pretty ones always are a little slow.’_

“Yes, sir, you. Can you move out of the way so the _other_ obscenely attractive man can get through?” Murdock saw him start to turn red as the crowd chuckled, Pike for once joining in, though more at the man’s discomfort than anything else.

“Come on. Come on. Hustle. Don’t you see me up here trying to get a job?” People moved out of the way as Murdock waved him forward.

“What do you do?” The fire-eater asked as he took in the long limbs and lean muscle that went with the handsome visage. “Wait…wait. Don’t tell me. Jo-Jo, the dog-faced boy?”

“Trapeze.” The man quickly responded, giving no more room for jokes at his appearance’s expense.

 _‘Of course.’_ Murdock nodded. “What’s your name?”

“Temp.” Gorgeous offered with a grin.

Another wolf whistle came from the crowd and the aerialist flipped a bird in the offender’s direction.

“That short for anything?” Murdock continued with formalities while setting up his final stunt.

The question pulled another blush from the performer before he answered. “Templeton.”

“Ah, yeahhhh. I think we’re just gonna stick with Faceman. I’m H.M.” Murdock held out his hand, fingertips alight. “Oh, sorry about that.” He winked, then put fingers one by one in his mouth, effectively extinguishing them as the crowd laughed.

“Alright. Now that we’re friends and all. Do you trust me?” The fire-eater lit a torch with his still fiery thumb before popping the digit into his mouth.

“Trust you? I don’t even know you.” Temp gave an uncomfortable laugh.

“Fair enough. Wanna let me try it anyway?” He grinned as the aerialist suspiciously stared at him, but then an over-exaggerated wag of eyebrows from Murdock had a smile breaking out.

“Why not?” Temp shrugged.

“Jolly good, ol’ chap!” Murdock cheered in a thick British accent as he clapped the taller man on the shoulder.

“This is what we’re gonna do.” The fire-eater slowly ran the lit torch up his own right arm to the very edge of his huge burning phoenix tattoo. “Now your turn.” Murdock held the torch out towards the other man.

“You’re crazy.” The aerialist stated with a good-natured chuckle.

Murdock felt his body tense at the phrase but the light tone told him it hadn’t been meant maliciously.

“Oh, good! Then my file _was_ sent over ahead of me.” The fire-eater hastily joked to cover his discomfort.

#####

“So?” Murdock pulled his cap off, ruffling sweaty hair before righting the hat.

Pike looked at him like he’d rather be licking the underside of an elephant’s foot and then sighed grudgingly. “You bring your own stuff. Don’t have a trailer? You’re sleeping outside. Come by later to fill out paperwork.”

“Awesome.” Beaming, Murdock went in for a shake but without a glance the manager just walked away.

“Don’t worry about him. He’s a dick.”

Murdock turned, gasping in mock surprise as he faced the aerialist from earlier. “No! But he seemed _so_ pleasant.”

He held his hand up, waggling unlit fingers before putting it towards his inflammistic guinea pig. “H.M. Murdock. Thanks for the help.”

The other man smiled as he took his hand. “Temp Peck. No worries. Do you have stuff waiting for you?”

“Nope, got it all right here.” Murdock patted the full to the brim duffels.

“First circus?” Temp questioned as he deftly stepped out of the path of a clown on a very wobbly unicycle. “Watch it, Walker.” He called out before returning his attention to the fire-eater.

“Ah, traveling, yes. I usually work with fairs and circuses that come to town.” Murdock replied as they started down the small through-way between the tents.  

The aerialist nodded as he ran a hand over the nape of his neck. “We’ve got a bit before show time; I can take you around, if you want.”

“Sounds like a plan. Lead the way, kind sir.” Murdock waved a hand in front of them before shifting both of his bags for better leverage.

Temp reached out and pulled one away then flung it over his shoulder with a smile. “Come on. We’ll drop these off at my place first.”

#####

Murdock could write a list a mile long about all the things that made him like doing what he did. But his number one answer always stayed the same. No one ever asked you or in some cases even acknowledged life _before_.

He didn’t have to worry about making up lies or excuses. There was never any reason to talk about hospitals and the ECTs that lurked around their dark corners.

No one needed to know about being sent away from his family all those years ago. Or that the same family once again had him bolting.

No, Temp was content asking about safe things like places the fire-eater had been and other circuses he’d worked with as people rushed around their leisurely pace.

As they passed ring stock cages filled with tigers and made way for elephants to pass, their conversation only halted whenever the aerialist would reach a long arm out to hook someone in for a more proper introduction. Murdock noticed on more than one occasion the pleased expression of both parties if the someone happened to be female.

“Amy! Amy, I want you to meet our new fire-eater.” Temp called out as he grabbed a hold of passing by tall, thin young woman with dark hair in a messy ponytail.

She let out a surprised yelp as she was pulled in their direction, the swift action causing the container in her hand to slip.

“Templeton Peck, you ass.” She groaned as it fell upended on the ground.

“Sorry! Sorry!” He held up his hands in apology before narrowing his eyes. “Wait… how come you didn’t see that happening?”

Murdock watched with amusement as the skeptical look the aerialist gave the woman turned to one of shock when she punched him in the arm.

“Ow. Damn.” He whined, rubbing the spot.

“Aba-daba. It clouds my vision. E _specially_ when it’s Ella’s peach cobbler. Now go get me some more. You know she only gives out one helping because it goes so fast.” Amy smiled as Murdock tried to cover up a snicker with a poorly placed cough. “I’ll keep our newest addition company.”

“How am I supposed to get some for myself then?” Temp winked in Murdock’s direction before giving Amy the world’s most pitiful, wounded look.

“That face most certainly doesn’t work on me, but I’m sure it’ll do wonders on Ella. Get extra!” She shouted as Temp trotted off with a laugh.

“He’ll be right back; it’s just around the corner.” She pointed before putting a hand out. “Amy Allen.”

“H.M. Murdock.” He laughed and returned the gesture. “You’ve got to work with the cats, the way you had him jumping.”

She shook her head and gave him a bright smile. “Oh, no I leave the cats to Charissa. I’m more of a people handler.”

“People handler?” Murdock repeated.

“Yep.” She flipped his palm up and exaggeratedly peered at it.

“Ah. That’s what you meant by visions.” Murdock shook his head in understand. He then glanced over Amy’s shoulder and caught sight of Temp approaching with more than one box. “Ok, so how much cobbler did he get?”

“Five…no, wait, four. He ate one before he even left the cook shack.” She said without hesitation before turning around.

“Don’t believe any of the stories she’s telling about me. Unless it’s the bear wrestling one, that’s totally true.” The aerialist chuckled as he held up four containers.

“Nice. It tasted a little weird last month. Does it taste any better this time?” Amy innocently inquired.

“As good as it always…" He looked at the pair in confusion as Murdock turned to Amy and started clapping. "What?”

“Bravo, my lady.” Murdock conceded with a deep bow.

She smiled knowingly and took two containers from the puzzled aerialist before walking off with a wave.

“What was that?” Temp questioned; looking from Amy's retreating form to the fire-eater beside him.

“The second most interesting introduction of the day.” Murdock grinned as the taller man handed him one of the remaining boxes.

#####

Austin was Murdock’s first stop when he’d left Richmond, all those years ago. It had been closer to his Granddad than he would have liked but he hadn’t intended to be there long.

That was until he’d seen Christian in Brush Square.

Short, stocky and covered in tattoos, the man had held the crowd around him, including Murdock, captive with his seemingly easy manipulation of dangerous fire.

H.M. had noticed the steady amount of money that’d gone into the box at the fire-eater’s feet. But the fire as it was slowly dragged up the performer’s arm had intrigued him more, the act causing goosebumps to sprout on his own.

Murdock had shuffled awkwardly on the curb until people started to move on. Waiting until the corner was almost completely empty to nervously approach the fire-eater as he packed his gear.

 _“Can you teach me?”_ He'd hesitantly implored. _  
_

The fire-eater had agreed and Murdock had stayed. Learning not only all that Christian could teach him about fire handling, but how to take the first tentative steps from under his Granddad’s oppressive shadow.

There’d been nights that their tip boxes overflowed with money, just as there’d been ones with barely more than when they’d set out. The mornings spent laughingly trying to teach Christian the simple basics of an omelet and the afternoons on the patio with his legs tucked under himself as he rolled coins had loosened the knot in his stomach that Murdock had once believed a permanent fixture.

One evening Christian had come into the kitchen, grinning ear to ear as he dropped a kiss against the edge of the still healing tattoo on Murdock’s arm. “Ever been to Arkansas?”

“No. Why? What’s there?” He’d turned from the pot simmering on the stove as the other man thrummed with excitement.

“The circus that wants to hire me. Well, it’s not there now but that’s where they’re going at the end of the week.” Christian clarified while hopping up to sit the counter.

“Oh.” Murdock had tried to smile but it’d felt more like a grimace, a fact that’d been confirmed when Christian’s face fell.

“You don’t wanna go?” He’d run a hand through short, dark hair as Murdock opened his mouth to respond.

 _No._ _No. He didn’t._

For days after there had been pleading and shouting and finally resignation as Murdock zipped up his bags.

“I can’t.” He’d said barely above a whisper against the shell of Christian’s ear before leaving.

Murdock had been in Austin for eight months and had learned a lot about himself. What he was capable of and what he wanted to do.

As his bus pulled out of town there’d been one more. He could not, _would not_ let anyone, even a well-meaning lover, take away the choice of where and when, if he wanted go.

From there he’d roamed almost every corner of the large state of Texas. Staying in one place only a few short weeks or the very rare couple of months. Drawing people to him with fire, in downtown squares and local fairs. Working with the mud shows that came through town and most of the time beating them to the county line.

Murdock had enjoyed the freedom to come and go as he pleased. Even if that meant he’d occasionally have to sleep in the same park he’d performed in or there’d be days with no food.

_Every single bit had been worth it._

Although, now, standing in the Burress Brothers’ Big Top with the Ringmaster’s voice booming over the mic as one act after another took the center ring, Murdock saw how steady life with a circus could draw someone in.

He soaked up the excitement of the crowd-filled tent as the clowns tumbled and vaulted through their gag to the soundtrack of cheering laughter.

The way the audience gasped and held its collective breath as Charissa moved around the arena. The trainer just as fiercely beautiful as the Big Cats she so easily controlled.

He watched from the back door as the aerial troupe took to the trapeze. Gracefully arcing and twisting, their bodies flying through the air with perfect fluidity and the coordination born of years of constant training. Murdock’s gaze locked on Temp, the muscles in the aerialist’s toned arms and back on display with each roll and flip before he was caught in the catcher’s expert grasp.

 _“Anna’s silk performance is amazing.”_ Temp had told him earlier as they walked the lot.

 _“Amazing doesn’t even come close.”_ Murdock thought, transfixed by the woman’s spiraling form. Every roll and drop wrapped pure white silk around her equally pale body as fiery red tendrils of hair strategically cascaded around her face.

As Anna’s spin slowed, Murdock found that even with all of the circus’ over-stimulation, his brain’s constant buzzing was silent for the first time in ages.

#####

_“You can stay with me until you get on your feet...”_

Murdock had been dozing, propped against the door of Temp’s old F-150 but the offer brought him to full wakefulness.

He’d gotten so caught up in the performances and the bustling process of getting the show down the highway to New Mexico afterward that he hadn’t even thought about where he’d stay.

Finding a place to sleep had never been a problem while he traveled. He’d floated from couches and beds to floors and benches, even a hammock during one stay in Lubbock.

He now realized that ironically, with the circus, he’d have to have a more stable residence. Something he hadn’t needed or wanted in years.

There _was_ money and more than enough to buy a trailer and vehicle immediately. But he didn’t want any part of it.

Shortly after being released from his last hospital stay, his Aunt Bernice had made sure he’d always have money to fall back on. Just in case his Granddad decided to cut him off once again. It had been his lifeline from when he was 20 until the final time he'd walked out of his family home, promising then to never use the account again.

Two years ago he’d been stuck in Lindale with the very last of his money being used to take care of a broken foot. After two days of no food and the pain pills meant to be taken with meals burning holes in his empty stomach, he’d caved. Seeing a bank branch he’d gone in and checked the account, finding it full of 5 years worth of monthly deposits still being made by his Aunt.

At hearing the amount though, he’d turned to leave, the confused teller calling after him. He’d set up that afternoon at the local arts market instead, making enough money for food and a ticket out of town.

_No matter if Aunt Bernice handled it or not, it was still Granddad’s money._

“I mean… if you want. The couch is small but it’s honestly not bad.” Temp’s tone was slightly embarrassed and Murdock caught that his long silence had been taken as a refusal.

“No, no! It’s great! Thanks.” Murdock answered Temp’s sheepish grin with a mischievous smile. “Though, I don’t know how I’ll _ever_ be able to fit all of my stuff inside. I mean, I’ve got the 55” TV, the 8 person hot tub…and I’ve really got my eye on one of the elephants I saw this afternoon.”

“What? Dude, no. No elephants. I’m not cleaning that up.” The awkwardness fell away from the aerialist’s body as he shook his head and chuckled.

And as he joined in with his own laughter, Murdock became certain that leaving Amarillo had been the right decision.

#####

Growing up Murdock had been the kid who was always bursting at the seams with barely contained energy. Easily excitable and once he got going, it was hard to calm him down. Rare was it that something would keep his attention, but when it did, he practically absorbed whatever it was.

Books, TV shows, ideas ( _I wanna be a pilot when I grow up)_. He’d talk to anyone, _even if they didn’t want to hear,_ until he was blue in the face.

Teachers didn’t know what to do with him. Other kids had a hard time accepting him. _Weirdo. Freak._ His Granddad, with his lack of tolerance and nasty temper, definitely didn’t know how to handle him.

But his Gramma always knew. Knew that to listen and lovingly engage his often wild ramblings would soothe his over-active, racing mind. As he got older she was the only one that could reach through and lift him out when the walls closed in around him.

His Gramma had been the one steady, patient person in his life and when she passed away when he was 18, he hadn’t been able to cope.

His grief was only magnified by his Granddad, who believed the answer was to shout at and shake him when the boy lashed out in the dark. To yank and pull at him when for days H.M. couldn’t get off his bed; couldn’t stop crying.

“They’ll get you right. Fix _everything_ you got wrong with you. _Then_ you can come home.” His Granddad’s voice has been as detached as if he was talking about taking out the evening trash, not abandoning his own deceased daughter’s son at a mental hospital.

Two years later, when he’d been allowed to leave Meridian and the fog of too many medications had lifted, H.M. swore to his Granddad that he’d do better. Time after time he promised but he always failed, bringing more anger from the old man, more threats. Until he’d finally come to see that nothing he could do would ever be right, so he stopped.

_Stopped trying to please his Granddad and stopped hoping that he’d ever find someone as understanding as his Gramma._

After experiencing his first long day of circus set up in Santa Fe, Murdock tiredly begged off the invitation to join other performers that night as they sat around the fire laughing and drinking. It had felt good being able to jump in and work wherever needed but it was also exhausting and sleep had started to beckon. And that was a rare call that Murdock didn’t like to miss.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Temp got up and with an arm slung securely around the fire-eater’s shoulder, steered him back to the group.

 _“For just a little bit.”_ Murdock conceded to himself as the aerialist grinned and handed him a beer.

The coercions continued after every show and Murdock soon found his reluctance fading into anticipation. Wanting to be able to try and convince Ray, the aerial troupe’s catcher, that it was perfectly safe to let him light their nightly fire with a couple Pops.

Or laughing along as Temp was teased for how effortlessly he’d taken to the moniker of Faceman.

The response of “Well…I mean it’s not like I can _deny it_.” drawing friendly jeers and sending plastic cups flying in his direction.

And speaking of Face...

Murdock found himself so at ease with the aerialist that there were times he had to rein his brain in as it shouted, “ _Something’s wrong!_ ”

_“No. It’s good for once.”_

Over miles and months the pair became nearly inseparable. Much to the chagrin and sometimes woes of those around them.

Like the food fight that’d erupted when Face pointed out the structural issues with Murdock’s pea palace, one lunch in Phoenix.

The violent war was brought to a standstill only after Face ducked Murdock’s potato catapult and Ella had become collateral damage as she picked up empty trays. They’d been banned from the cook shack for three cities with a growl of, _“Like five year olds.”_ as the usually calm cook wiped Idaho Spuds from her hair. It would have been longer but Face had miraculously sweet talked their way back in.

Face would sit next to Murdock around the fire and sing along, _horribly_ , with the only song the fire-eater could play on the guitar that’d materialized somewhere along the route. The aerialist’s further butchering of the already painful sounding tune would have them both in tears by the time someone _begged_ them to stop. Which would only make their laughter worse.

As the night wore on they’d tumble towards Face’s Scamp, sometimes drunk, others in fits of _manly_ giggles, where they’d continue with whatever ridiculous topic most assuredly one of the two had begun outside.

“Why’d you decide to become a traveling performer?” In Des Moines, the aerialist asked as he fell onto the couch next to his friend.

The change in subject definitely didn’t have the fire-eater snickering. He much rather preferred the earlier theme of _‘Creepiest but best lay you’ve ever had.’_

 _'You really didn’t think you’d be able to get away from that, did you?'_ Murdock didn’t say anything, just stared at his hands.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Face nudged him with his foot. “Hey. No. It’s cool, bud. I was just wondering.”

Murdock looked up at his friend’s open, honest expression and sighed. “I didn’t have anything else to do.”

Face smiled, not _‘Is that right?’_ but _‘I know.’_ before answering, “Foster care. I was 15 when took off with the shittiest Dog and Pony Show to ever come through town. It was horrible. But still better...”

The blood pulsing in Murdock’s ears was loud but his voice even more so as he spoke. “Because you chose to go.”

“Exactly!” The aerialist exclaimed and with a rush of relief, Murdock found maybe he didn’t mind questions so much, as long as they came from Face.

#####

While all the other little boys in his third grade class had their sights set on their teacher, Ms. North, Murdock was hopelessly smitten with Deek, his Granddad’s foreman.  Tall and hard work rugged, Deek didn’t mind the boy being underfoot. Though inquisitive, Murdock knew when to stay out of the way.

The man would show H.M. how things worked around the ranch, letting him help with small tasks when possible.

As soon as the school bus dropped him off Murdock would throw his stuff down and bolt out of the house so he could follow Deek all over their 200 acres.

“I’m gonna marry Ms. North when I get bigger.” Jimmy Wortham proudly announced one day at lunch.

“I’m gonna marry Deek and we can work the ranch together.” H.M. had stated before taking a bite of his sandwich.

The other little boy’s face contorted. “You can’t marry a boy if you’re a boy! You can only marry girls.”

H.M. wasn’t gonna take Jimmy Wortham’s word for it, so that night at the dinner table as the potatoes were being passed, he asked his grandparents. “Can boys marry boys?”

The clatter of his Granddad’s utensils was like a shot as he reached out and grabbed H.M.’s arm. “What’re you asking that queer question for, boy?”

He winced, knowing better than to try and pull away from the old man’s tight grip. “I…I just wanted to know.”

“Milton let him go.” His Gramma said gently, even as she gave H.M. a slight look that he’d never seen from her before.

“Ain’t having no fairy under my roof, Maggie.” Milton growled as he released his grandson.

The next afternoon H.M. didn’t go in search of Deek. In fact, he stayed far away from the foreman every day after until the man moved on to other employment a couple years later.

It hadn’t been a hard choice.

_H.M. had grown used to withering looks from his Granddad but never wanted to see even the smallest amount of disappointment directed his way from his Gramma again._

“Are you sure you’re feeling ok, buddy? You don’t look too good.”

At the voice Murdock cracked open watery, achy eyes and huffed. “We can’t all be pretty like you, Faceman.”

“Shut up. You look like shit.” Face placed a hand on the fire-eater’s brow and Murdock sighed at the cool contact. “You’re burning up. I’ll tell Pike you’re taking the night off.”

“Nope. I got this.” Murdock attempted to pull upright on the couch, but only succeeded in making himself dizzy.

“Bullshit. Lay down.” Face ordered with a gentle shove to his friend's shoulder.

“O.k. maybe just for a bit.” Murdock relented and instantly fell asleep again.

“No! I don’t want them.” He struggled as pills were thrust at him. “No. No. They make it all fuzzy.”

“Murdock! Hey, hey. Buddy, relax. It’s Motrin… for the fever.” The familiar voice gently assured.

_Buddy._

“Face?” He croaked, finally recognizing his friend’s worried face.

“Yeah.” A relieved smile was given before sweaty bangs were swept off his forehead and fingers carded through hair, soothing circles against his scalp.

The tender gesture had something tingling in the back of Murdock’s fevered mind but he was too tired to grasp for it.

_So he slept._

By the time they were heading out of Kansas City days later, the fire-eater was over the worst of the flu. With his temperature down and the aches dissipating, Face’s constant hovering relaxed.

And that’s what concerned Murdock. _Not_ his friend’s attention but his own disappointment that it had eased up.

_“Shit.”_

#####

It wasn’t like Murdock hadn’t noticed how disgustingly attractive Face was. You’d have to be blind not to.

_Even then, how much fun would sight by feel be?_

_Behave._

He admit there’d been times in the first couple of weeks with the circus that had _maybe_ been a little trying. Face with his _face_ and smile and body and completely unacceptable penchant for as little clothing as possible.

But having a cohort who willingly participated in his sock puppet theater around the fire eventually trumped the novelty of Templeton Peck walking around in a tiny towel.

_'Why can’t you have both?'_

“Not gonna happen.” Murdock stated as the book in his hands failed to keep his attention. “Plus, he’s straight.”

_'You sure?'_

“Let’s see... hmmm, there’s Anna.” _Face always making sure there’s a seat next to him for Murdock at meetings, meals, outings or wherever._

“And the gilly girl *I* had to let down easy in St. Louis, when she thought she was coming with us.” _Face constantly touching him. Arm slung over his shoulder, hands on his arm, leaning against the fire-eater, even when there was more than enough space around them._

“He’s with the Bennett Sisters, right now.” _He wanted you to go._ “No… Bency wanted me to come.” Murdock scrunched his nose. “Literally.”

“It wouldn’t work out anyway and then it’d all be screwed.” Murdock gave a resolute nod to the empty trailer as he grabbed the newspaper lying on the counter. If he was having arguments with himself like this, finding a place of his own was way overdue.

#####

A few days later Murdock was just finishing a shower when a bang and curses signaled Face’s return to the trailer.

“Murdock!” He heard the aerialist growl as he wrapped a towel around himself and opened the bathroom door.

“Buddy, you gotta keep this shit off the floor. I’m gonna break my neck.” Face grumbled as he picked up torches and other various fire-handling paraphernalia.

“I swear I put it away. Faceman, I think you got gremlins.” Murdock chuckled as he rubbed his hair dry. “You’re gonna miss me when I’ve got my own trailer tomorrow.”

“You, yes. All of this…” Face pointed to items scattered all over the Scamp’s small interior. “No.”

As Murdock started getting dressed, Face took a piece of paper off the table and gave it a once over. “Is this what they’re asking for?”

“Uh, huh.” Murdock answered as he pulled a t-shirt on.

Face shook his head. “They’re so trying to rip you off.”

And that’s how Murdock found himself standing in Mrs. Clara Thompson’s backyard trying to discreetly hide an enormous grin behind his palm.  

“Now see, this huge dent here could _really_ be a problem.” Face had a helpful arm around the little old lady’s shoulder as he pointed out potential issues with the Airstream and Silverado in turn.

“Oh my, I didn’t see that before.” She sweetly gazed up at Face. “I haven’t paid much attention to them since Harold passed away last year.”

“Understandable.” The aerialist’s nodded sympathetically. “We’d really like to take them off your hands but I don’t know. The price…”

“Why don’t you boys come inside for a drink and we can see what we can work out.” Mrs. Thompson offered.

“That sounds lovely.” Face answered, giving a stealthy thumbs up in Murdock’s direction.

“Yep.” The fire-eater agreed swiftly. “Just lemme take one more look around. I’ll be right there.”

An hour and one rear end squeeze from Mrs. Thompson later, the pair were back at the circus lot in Columbus. Along with the truck and trailer that’d been given to them for $1,000 less.

“I thought your eyes were gonna bug clean outta your head, Faceman.” Murdock howled with laughter as he struggled to unlatch the trailer’s stairs.

“She grabbed my ass! And you have no idea what that filthy grandma whispered in my ear that would have gotten us the whole shebang for free. **_She bang_** being the key words.” The aerialist stuttered as he tried to catch his breath.

“You mean I coulda saved _all_ my money? I gladly woulda traded your services to Clara for that.” Murdock snickered, dodging the fist thrown his way as Face squawked indignantly.

The steps finally popped loose and Murdock wiped his hands on his shorts before delving into his pocket.

“Here take this.” The fire-eater said; thrusting the bundle of cash towards his friend.

“What? That’s yours, bud.” Face shoved his hand away. “I told you she was trying to rip you off.”

“Face.” Murdock warned, pushing it back. “You’ve spent all these months putting up with me and my mess and my snoring.”

“The snoring’s not _that bad_ , as long as I’m asleep before you.” Face jokingly interrupted.

“And last month when I swallowed paraffin and spent the night puking…” Murdock continued.

Face reached out and snatched the money. “Oh, yeah I totally deserve this after helping you clean that up.”

Murdock sobered. “Thank you. For everything.”

Face waved off the seriousness. “We’re friends.”

“Yeah, _now_. But not back in Amarillo. I was just the guy trying to set your arm on fire.” Murdock said quietly as he sat down on the steps.

For a second Face looked like he was going to spout off another joke but then his expression softened and Murdock felt his heart rate spike when his friend stepped closer.

“Temp! _There you are._ I really need help with my new cloud swing routine. I’m having core issues.” Anna called out as she bounced over and Face pulled back with a self-conscious smile before glancing at the other aerialist.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there.” He put the money away then gave Murdock a look the fire-eater couldn’t decipher. “Thanks, bud.”

“Sure thing. Thanks for wooing Clara for me.” Murdock grinned, even with his cheerful tone sounding too loud in his ears. “I’ll come by tomorrow to get the rest of my stuff.”

 #####

It’d been so long since Murdock hadn’t shared a space with someone that he couldn’t get used to the Airstream’s silence. He tossed and turned for hours with no sleep.

Shifting around only seemed to make the situation worse. His movements kicking up the smell of Face from the borrowed linens. Murdock groaned and tried to ignore the erection caused by his friend’s familiar scent.

When it didn’t work he whined in defeat and slid a hand into pajama bottoms, taking hold of himself.

 _Not into guys. Your friend. Don’t you wanna stay here?_ Murdock’s brain started in on all the reasons he shouldn’t, but a palm dragged over his slick cockhead, making the slide and twist down his shaft easier, erased all rational thoughts. The empty space quickly replaced by Face’s grin whenever he looked at the fire-eater, the fond lilt to his voice and how it wrapped around, changing a simple word like buddy into _so much more_.

Murdock gasped; hips rocking into a touch he wished wasn’t his own.

Face’s large, strong hands, calloused from years of aerial work. Their hold always warm, affectionate against the bare skin of Murdock’s arm, his nape.

“Yes, please.” Murdock stuttered into the dark. Grip tighting, stroking faster. The scent of his own arousal mixing with the smell from the loaned bedding tipped him over the edge.

Eyes slammed shut. Face’s name in his throat, on his lips as he spilled hot and wet into his own hand.

As his breathing returned to normal, the list of why it was a bad idea to think of Face in something more than a friendly manner started back up.

Murdock had finally, after all the years of running, _searching_ , found something that felt right. That helped keep things balanced. Where failure and disappointment couldn’t creep in and send him spiraling.

_No, it wasn’t worth losing._

#####

A year with The Burress Brothers’ Circus and all it took was just one brief look at the new annual route to send the tiny insulated world filled with the sounds of cheering crowds and the smells of popcorn and sickly sweet cotton candy tilting on its axis so swiftly that H.M. Murdock almost fell completely off.

_**2003 – Richmond, Texas** _

Murdock knew he should have run, weeks ago, the minute he saw the town’s name on the route. He'd had the chance and hadn’t taken it. Just as he'd started to put one foot in front of the other, Face had come bounding over, laughing about a ridiculous idea he’d gotten for Javi’s birthday.

The fire-eater had convinced himself that with his friends, _Face_ around he could get through the week. But as soon as the front tires of the Silverado hit the county line, the town with its aching familiarity started reaching out to drag him back.

He’d focused on Mabel when she asked for help with the elephants. Eduardo when he needed someone to feed the monkeys. Not the memories that kept slipping in. Like when he was 12 and wound up on the bruising end of his Granddad’s belt after the old man found him peeking out his window at the shirtless ranch hands in the yard below.

Murdock struggled the first day in town to try and lose himself in the circus’ hustle and bustle while people moved obliviously around the lot. As they got everything set up for what to them was just another stand.

By dinnertime, though, even the air had started pressing down on Murdock and he’d made with a bullshit excuse to return to his trailer that had Face looking at him funny.

He didn’t care. He just needed to get to the Airstream. Where everything in it let him know was who he was. The 30 year old fire-eater not the scared, unhappy, _crazy_ kid, who may or may not have fallen into a bizarre time warp.

Once inside Murdock spent hours pacing back and forth. Miles worn into the trailer’s narrow walkway while his mind worked the same erratic path. Just before the sky lightened he exhaustively dropped down onto the bed and into a fitful sleep, dreams full of sharp, shouting, unseen things.

#####

The sun was hot and bright the next morning as Murdock made his way towards Face’s trailer. He’d hoped that just being around his friend would curb some of the spinning. Even just a little so he could get a better hold on the Tilt-A-Whirl before he lost his tenuous grasp completely.

He knocked on the door, fidgeting as he waited. When no answer came he started to knock a second time before hearing hushed voices inside. And not ones that led to a very awkward interruption, _like usual_ , but a harsh, angry whisper.

 _‘Something’s wrong.’_ Alarm tingled at the base of Murdock’s skull as he twisted the handle, finding it locked. “Face?”

“Hey, buddy. I’m kinda busy.” The aerialist called back, his tone tight and awkward.

“I really need to talk to you.” The fire-eater insistently tapped on the door before trying the knob again.

“Murdock!” The shout edged with agitation. “We’ll talk later. It’s not a good...”

Murdock became aware of two things simultaneously. The grunt of pain that came along with the premature end of Face’s sentence and the door swinging opening just as he started to throw a shoulder against it. He stumbled forward before hands were dragging him fully into the trailer.

From his vantage point on the floor Murdock had a moment to appreciate that his previous personal Gravitron had come to a screeching halt before he was being hauled onto his feet.

The fire-eater quickly took in the surroundings.

Face was sitting on the couch in just a pair of running shorts and with a dark bruise coming up on his cheek to go along with the swelling of his right eye. Before Murdock could get his attention, the two men standing near the aerialist started arguing.

“You couldn’t just shut the fuck up.” The tall, balding man with an extreme beer belly growled at the skinny, scraggly toothed man beside him, as he jerked his thumb at Murdock. “Now we gotta deal with this faggot as well.”

“Hey! Thanks _a lot_ for blowing my cover." Murdock huffed in offense. "I’m usually real stealthy. Guys don’t know there’s a faggot in the room till I got my dick…”

The punch from Scraggly was swift and had Murdock spitting blood before the words even died on his lip.

Wiping his chin, the fire-eater looked in Face’s direction. The aerialist’s eyes were blown wide with panic as he mouthed, _“What are you doing?”_

 _‘What **are** you doing?’_ Murdock gave an indifferent shrug even as his stomach tried to join the party happening on the outside.

“Shoulda just taken him out to the truck.” Beer-belly huffed.

“This is fucking stupid. Charlene’s a skank anyway.” Scraggly responded then more flying fists broke out.  

Murdock glanced at Face as the aerialist slowly moved towards the edge of the couch, unnoticed as the two men continued with the shouts and blows.  

“That’s my wife you’re calling a skank!” Beer-belly screamed; landing a punch against Scraggly’s jaw, knocking more teeth loose, Murdock was sure.

“She is! If she wasn’t, we wouldn’t be here right now!” Scraggly pointed out; blood dripping down his chin.

 _“What the hell were they...”_ As realization hit, Murdock nearly groaned. _Face._

When they got out of here he was giving the aerialist **_another_ ** black eye. But right now he silently urged his friend forward. With these morons fighting each other they could _easily_ get the upper hand.

“Fuck this!” The jilted husband whipped around in Face’s direction, halting all of the aerialist’s movements when he cocked a pistol and put it against Face’s head. “Think you can just come through town, sleeping with people’s wives? Ain’t happening no more. It’ll be the last damned time.”

_Ok, maybe not._

This was not happening. Fuck, he _hated_ this place. **_Think, H.M., Think._** He was _not_ going to die in this town he’d tried so hard to get away from. This town _…This town._

“WAIT! Stop! Stop! I’ve got money!” The words were out of Murdock’s mouth so fast he was as surprised as everyone else in the trailer.

“Bullshit.” Beer-belly eyed the fire-eater but didn’t move the gun away from Face.

“I do. I do. I just need to go to the bank.” Murdock felt bile creep up the back of his throat as Face sat, hands like vices gripping the underside of the couch.

Beer-belly relaxed, gun lowering just a bit. “How much?”

Murdock didn’t even hesitate. “$90,000.”

“$90,000?”

A sharp, manic laugh escaped the fire-eater when Face’s voice was the loudest of the responding three.

“You’re lying.” Beer-belly swung the gun back into place, pressed it hard against Face’s temple. “Look how surprised your boyfriend here is.”

Murdock held out a calming hand even as the room started to slide slightly to the side. “He didn’t know. But I _swear_. I can get it from the bank. You can have every single bit of it. Just let us go.”

“Hold up.” Scraggly looked at Murdock fully for the first time since dragging him into the trailer. “What’s your name?”

“Murdock.” Something about Scraggly’s beak-like nose and dirty blond hair was familiar but before he could get to it the man looked at his friend.

“He ain’t lying.” Scraggly verified. “His Granddaddy’s Milton Brown.”

Murdock’s eyes narrowed as recognition slid into place. “Jimmy _fucking_ Wortham.”

“It figures your crazy ass would run off with a circus. I thought for sure you’d been locked away in some padded room in Meridian this whole time.” Wortham sneered.

 _‘Fuck this town.’_ Murdock thought once more for good measure as a quick glance at Face showed his friend gaping with puzzlement.

“Jimmy, y’all can play catch up on the way to the bank.” Beer-belly put the gun away and yanked on Face’s arm. “Me and pretty boy’ll follow y’all in my truck.”

“No.” Murdock said and Beer-belly scoffed.

“You ain’t ordering no one around.”

Murdock shook his head. “Yes. I am. He ain’t riding with you. He can go with Jimmy. If you want the money you’re with me.”

The fire-eater stared unwaveringly as the other man backed down.

“Fuck you, faggot.” He growled, barreling out of the trailer.

#####

“Is this what folks in Richmond do for fun now? Threaten to kill trapeze artists. Damn, it’s probably best I left town. I was never really good with…” Murdock couldn’t stop his hands from shaking or his mouth from running off.

“Shut the fuck up and drive.” Beer-belly ordered as he stared at the rear view mirror.

Murdock glared at the man in the seat next to him before glancing in the mirror for himself. Making sure that beat up, multi-colored Ranger was still right behind them.

“ _Last damned time I’m ever touching Richmond soil_.” Murdock muttered when they pulled up to the curb in front of the bank.

30 minutes of argument and frustration with the bank manager and Murdock walked out with a cashier’s check, feeling like he was in some bad Made for TV movie. He shoved the check into Beer-belly’s hand, where he leaned against the side of the truck.

“How do I know this ain’t some bullshit that’s gonna get me thrown in prison the minute I cash it?” He asked; eyeing Murdock with distrust.

“Fair enough.” Murdock nodded, before looking at Face in the passenger seat. “But I don’t give two shits about that money. It’s been there for 8 years. You’re doing me a favor by taking it.” Murdock meant every word. _Good riddance_.

Murdock opened the truck's door and Face barely slid out before the other man shoved his way into the cab.

“I hate this place.” Murdock voiced aloud as the Ranger sped off. “Come on. Let’s go.” He reached out but Face shrugged him off and climbed into the Silverado.

“You ok?” The fire-eater took inventory of his friend’s injuries. Black eye almost completely shut, his cheek swollen and bruised.

When Face didn’t answer Murdock just started to drive.

_There was a **serious** need for a discussion about the towns picked for the route. Screw Pike. He was going straight to the Burress Brothers themselves…if there really **were** Burress Brothers. Something most certainly needed to be done to avoid violent, redneck infested shitholes. _

“Face…”

“Don’t. Just…” Before the truck could even be parked, the aerialist was out and to his trailer, leaving Murdock shaking behind the steering wheel.

They were alright. Face was alright. _Right?_

What the hell just happened?

As much anxiety as he’d had about coming back to Richmond, this was _not_ what Murdock had expected.

 _Leave it to Face to make it interesting._ Jesus Christ. All of this because…

What would have happened if he hadn’t gone to the trailer? If he didn’t have the money? If those two stupid assholes had decided putting bullets in them was more fun?

Instead of tapering off, the tremors increased as each scenario flashed in his mind. Until Murdock took off out of the truck in a flash.

“Do you ever think with anything besides your cock?” Murdock slammed the door open as he charged into the Scamp. “You almost got yourself killed! What if I hadn’t been…”

The fire-eater was only vaguely aware of the words coming out of his mouth. All he could see was red and Face standing by the sink, momentary shock on his features as Murdock barreled into him.

The surprise quickly wore off, though and Face responded, pushing Murdock back as he grabbed at his arms and shouted.

“I didn’t ask… I know…I fucked up…”

The Scamp was small but as they continued to shove and scream at each other in the narrow space it seemed even more so.

Murdock lashed out but Face dodged the punch before lunging forward, pinning the fire-eater to the bathroom door with a brutal collision of mouths.

 _‘What the fuck?’_ Pain spiked from his split lip, giving Murdock a moment of clarity but then Face was desperately grasping at him and it was all that mattered.

Savage and not at all what Murdock had _ever_ envisioned, he let the anger and the adrenaline drive him against the other man. The hiss as his hand brushed against Face’s cheek, the coppery taste of his own blood on his tongue. All ignored in favor of bearing down into the friction caused by riding against the aerialist’s leg currently between his thighs.

It stayed a vicious flurry of movement. Face’s hand in his hair, yanking Murdock back into the kiss every time he tried to take a breath. Blunt nails digging into Face’s thin material clad ass. Trying to get each other closer as broken, half formed words gave way to heated moans. Hands frantically tugging at clothes, satisfied only when bare skin was exposed.

Murdock didn’t care when all it took was Face’s callused hand barely wrapping around his cock to have him messily coming like some inexperienced teenager. Especially when the aerialist immediately braced his other hand on the door, pressing their bodies tighter as he animalistically rutted against the fire-eater’s lean frame until he shuddered with his own climax.

Minutes passed where only the sound was their ragged breathing as the pair slumped, tangled together against the door.

“So? Do you fuck everyone like that or is it something you save for special occasions? You know, _Hurray! We still have our brain pans!_ ” Murdock broke the silence with a pointed laugh but the aerialist didn't answer, just continued to pant hot and damp across his shoulder.

“Face?” The fire-eater ran fingers through the other man’s thick, sweaty hair. “If this is gonna be all weird and wonky, I’m gonna need a few more minutes before ya’ kick me out. My legs are jello and your awesome upper body strength is all that’s keeping me upright.”

Face snapped to at that, moving away enough that true to his word, Murdock slipped just a bit down the door. “Fuck it.” He snorted, before letting himself slide the rest of the way. Not caring how absolute ridiculous he looked. Sweaty, sticky and completely fucked out with his shorts around his knees. If anyone deserved this, it was most definitely H.M. Murdock.

“What is wrong with you?” Face's words may have been sharp but there was no malice behind them.

Still, the fire-eater hated the way the question sounded coming from his friend’s mouth.

Murdock sighed and started tugging his shorts up over slim hips. “If you wanna list you might need to pull up a piece of floor for awhile, Faceman.”

To his surprise the aerialist did just that. Situating his own clothes before dropping down next to Murdock.

He was shocked even more when Face looked at him, blue eyes full of racing emotions.

All but tenderness fell away when Face reached out and ran a thumb over the fire-eater’s split lip. “You ok?”

“Physically or mentally?” Murdock asked with a flippant wag of eyebrows.

 _“H.M.”_ Face chided.

“I _think_ I’m getting there.” Murdock quietly admitted as Face frowned.

The action caused the voice in the back of his brain to begin shouting, _‘Told you so.’_ even as he tried to push it away. “Sorry, Faceman.”

“What? What are you talking about?" The aerialist gripped Murdock's arm tight." I don’t ever want to hear those words out of your mouth again. _I'm sorry._ I’m the one that fucked up. _Me. Only me._ If it wasn’t for you...” Face surged forward with a kiss. Warmth and affection replacing the ferocity of before.

Gentle glide of tongues and soft sighs whenever they briefly parted for breath continued until the easy give and take was broken by an off-kilter snicker from Murdock. “Was she hot? Please, tell me she was worth $90k.”

Unable to speak, Face just stared dumbfounded as Murdock grinned at him.

“Oh god. Was it the bearded lady? Was she your creepiest lay?” The fire-eater groaned.

“Shut up. Shut up.” Face ordered as he dipped back in, bringing their lips together once more.

After they'd sat for what felt like hours on the floor, with neither saying much, Face stood and pulled Murdock with him to the bed.

The aerialist, open and inquisitive had nuzzled close. “Tell me, please.”

Murdock had surprised himself by how effortlessly he’d conceded.

He always talked non-stop, but never discussed his life growing up, with anyone. He’d gone out of his way to do the complete opposite. Making sure to be surrounded by people who didn’t _want_ to know.

But lying there with Face wanting to, Murdock left nothing unturned.

His Grandparents, the time spent in the hospital, all of it. He’d talked. Shakes accompanied certain parts but he’d kept on as the long fingers carding through his hair chased them away.

When Murdock came to the end, the story catching up to where they were now, Face had taken over. With the soft slide of lips across skin. The tight grip of fingers on hipbones. Pleasured exclamations and sated sighs the only things left to be voiced.

#####

Murdock jerked awake, disorientated by the unfamiliar surroundings. He had a moment of panic, the room spinning until the weight across his back shifted and breath huffed against his nape.

_Face._

Murdock shamelessly burrowed into the solid warmth of the aerialist’s body as Face’s arm wrapped around and pulled him closer.

_This was good._

No, this was _**awesome**_.

Finally seeing that here, _the circus_ was where he was supposed to be. _Home._ And that it was worth fighting to keep.

The burden he’d carried most of his life, of being screwed up and never good enough, gone as soon as that check was out of his hands.

Granted, he would have liked to have experienced less violence induced realizations, but what could you do?

_And Face..._

_"We should have done that sooner."_ He'd said earlier, fingers tracing the length of Murdock's spine as they'd laid dozing. Morning light just beginning to filter in through the Scamp's tinted windows.

The fire-eater's first instinct had been to make a stupid joke as he rolled over. But then he'd seen the way the aerialist's face had lit up with _that_ grin. The one only ever directed at him with such intensity.

_Murdock had only been able to respond in kind before bringing Face back down to body warmed sheets._

His stomach growled, loudly demanding food, causing Face to chuckle.

“Damn, bud, when’s the last time you ate?” The aerialist pulled back and Murdock couldn’t hide his wince.

“Yeahhh, it hurts like a son of a bitch.” Face gingerly pressed fingers against the swelling of his cheek.

“You’re still beautiful to me!” Murdock sobbed dramatically, leaning in as Face laughed.

“What are you gonna do? There ain't no way you’re flying with that eye.” Murdock pointed out. 

“Don’t know." Face answered with a shrug. "But let’s get something to eat first. I’m going to need all my strength for when I show Ray.” 

#####

Murdock couldn’t have asked for a better Opening Night.

He grinned and laughed as he shotgunned his torch. People clapping as the fire crawled down his arm toward its unlit destination. Verses of _Ring of Fire_ and _Light My Fire_ mirthfully sung between fire resting on his tongue and being dragged over his shoulders.

The smile grew even more as Face handed Murdock wetted cloths or torches. The grounded aerialist made an excellent assistant, even if Murdock would lose him back to the air of the trapeze once his eye healed.

Murdock had fire running up his bare torso when the crowd shifted and he thought he saw a familiar face.

Shaking it off, he moved ahead, passing his arm through the fire. His hand catching the flame wrong when the vague glimpse became more solidified and sent his heart pounding.  

The crowd gasped as he jerked the torch away, barely keeping in the cursed shout.

Face was up quickly, extinguishing the fire while Murdock bowed and made a hasty exit.

“Lemme see.” Face ordered as he caught up to Murdock's retreat to the narrow alley beside the Big Top.

"It's fine." Murdock hissed as the aerialist took his hand. Tried to focus on the sound of the people filing inside the tent instead of his palm's pulsing burn.

"H.M.?" A voice called out and Face looked up in confusion.

_It just had to be one more thing, right?_

Murdock didn't have time to explain before a short, older woman with gray streaked dark hair came around the corner.

"Did you hurt yourself?" She asked with concern, even as she kept her distance from the pair.

The question, as if she just saw him yesterday, not over eight years ago, pulled a high-pitched, uncomfortable giggle from the fire-eater.

Then Face's hand was warm against his elbow and Murdock was thankful for the steady weight.

"I'm ok, Bernice." His acknowledgment had her moving closer.

"How long have you been in town?" She questioned tentatively.

"Just a couple days." Murdock waited anxiously, knowing what was coming next before she even spoke.

His hand _really_ hurt but like pulling off a band aid this needed to be done quick so there'd be less pain.

"Why didn't you come home?" She pleaded, holding back tears.

"Because..." Murdock sighed. "I just couldn't. It's been too long."

"That's never true when it comes to family. I know you and Daddy never got along. He just... He didn't _understand_." Her eyes shined bright. "You still shoulda been there. He was your Granddaddy."

 _Family._ Murdock tamped down a bitter laugh as Face suddenly leaned close and whispered. "We can go, if you want."

For a brief second he wanted that. To turn and go. Not do this right here in the through-way. _Not do this at all._

He shook his head and met his Aunt's gaze straight on. "Bernice, I'm sorry for not letting you know I was alright. But I ain't sorry for not coming back. It was _never_ home after Gramma died."

Despite Face beside him, Murdock started shaking but didn't stop talking. "It was easier for Granddad to ship me off then try and figure out what I really needed. And I can tell you for certain, it wasn't two years of ECTs that took memories of Gramma I'll _never_ get back."

His aunt stood in front of him, hand at her mouth unable to contain a sob that brought Murdock to a sudden halt.

_This wasn't her fault. She didn't do this._

She didn't deserve the anger he'd spent all that time running from. _Never facing it._ Instead, doing the _exact_ same thing his Granddad had done.

"Bernice." Murdock said softly, reaching out before his Aunt moved forward, wrapping her arms around him.

"I'm sorry I never did anything to stop Daddy from treating you like he did. I'm sorry all I did was throw money at you, hoping it'd somehow help." She cried, her hold on her nephew so fierce that the tremors wracking her body overtook his own.

Paying no attention to the performers moving passed, Murdock murmured and rocked her gently. "Shh. It's ok. We're ok." And it was... or would be eventually.

**_The money._ **

"The bank called you, didn't they?" Murdock asked abruptly when he realized how his Aunt had found out he was in town.

Bernice looked at him puzzled until she caught up with his slippery shift in thought.

"This morning. Shocked me something fierce when they told me it was a local withdrawal." She wiped her face. "You ain't never touched that money. I knew it had to be important."

"Yeah, it was." Murdock admitted as he looked to where Face had moved farther down the walkway to give them privacy.

He turned back around and hugged his aunt tight.

_Maybe it'd be a good thing to keep Richmond on the route, afterall._

 #####

_**6 months later – Chicago, Illinois** _

“Hey wanna come watch the new rider Javi and Paolo are trying out?” Murdock smiled as Face leaned against the Scamp’s door frame. “Javi said he’s got a real bad attitude but rides better than anyone he’s ever seen.”

“Sure.” Face agreed as he started down the stairs. “What’s his name?”

“Bosco.” Murdock hummed as the aerialist slid an arm around his shoulder.

“Bosco?” Face chuckled. “What kind of name is that?”

“You’re one to talk, _Templeton_.” Murdock countered; tucking himself closer to Face's side.

“My name didn’t seem to be a problem when you were screaming it last night.” Face smirked and the fire-eater looked up at him scandalized.

“Are you calling my virtue into question in this public square?” Murdock gasped, feigning the offended damsel as he tried _not too hard_ to get out of his friend’s grasp.

“Bud, I’m pretty sure there’s no question... _that it’s gone_. You’re loud.” Face's hold tightened as he placed a kiss into the fire-eater’s shaggy hair.  “Come on. Let’s go see what Bad Attitude Bosco’s got.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Back Yard — The area behind the big top where props, animals, and performers are readied for a circus performance, and where housing trailers are parked away from public view.  
> Cook Shack — The place where personnel eat, not open to the public.  
> Aba-daba — Any dessert served in the cook shack.  
> Cats — Lions, tigers, leopards, panthers.  
> Arena — The large cage in which big-cat acts are performed.  
> Mud Show — A smaller tent circus playing rural areas.  
> Pops — small fireballs, usually multiple in one fill.  
> Dog and Pony Show — A dismissive term for a very small circus.  
> Gilly (Gilly girl) — Anyone not connected with the circus, an outsider or towner.  
> Paraffin — "Ultra pure clear unscented lamp oil" recommended fuel to use for fire breathing.  
> Shotgun — lighting a trail of fuel on the body to light and unlit fire torch.  
> Slow burn — Very slowly dragging a lit fire torch on the skin


End file.
